So Not to Wake the Stars
by PlanetOfTheWeepingWillow
Summary: Sirius decides that he would raise Harry, along with Remus. What would seem like a simple change diverges the rest of Harry's life, stripping him of his fame, and instead launching a whole new sea of troubles. Gentle, patient, intelligent, and shrewd Harry now turns Hogwarts upside down in a new way. With maybe a werewolf or two. Wolfstar.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Harry Potter. I am not JK Rowling. Normal people can't be gods._

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><p><em>"I very well should care for Harry! I am his Godfather."<em>

_Albus Dumbledore gave Sirius Black a sympathetic look. "He needs two parents."_

_Sirius smiled, softly, so not to appear too sly._

_"I'm not _that _foolish."_

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><p>Harry Black lived in a perfectly calm, kind neighborhood in a perfectly calm, kind environment. Well, disregarding the owls that filled the night air once a month and the half-hidden fact that he was, in fact, a wizard. Life seemed to be just fine. It always does when in a few moments childhood bliss would evaporate and be replaced by strange paradoxes and anomalies, like hiccoughs in time.<p>

The first enigma slid through the door one fine morning, followed shortly by an owl hooting. At that time Sirius Black was home, sitting in the living room just beyond the doorway. He saw the note slip in, fluttering to the ground and making a soft rustling noise. He stood and approached it. He didn't bother picking it up. The seal was all he needed to see.

"Harry, get over here." He called.

A brief rustling came from the upstairs, followed by a child's excited footsteps.

"Has it come?" Harry's voice flew down the hallway.

"Yes, it has."

Harry rushed up to the note, still in flannel pajamas. He bent over the note and excitedly picked it up, running his fingers over the thick parchment. His glasses reflected warm sunlight and his hair, a mass of black, barely covered his thin, icy scar.

"When can we go buy supplies?" Harry asked excitedly.

Sirius glanced at him, seeing a bit of him mixed into the boy's light green eyes. Harry smiled broadly, ripping the paper open and rifling through its contents. He read the letter, pacing around the room, his slippers making soft hissing sounds against the wood.

"Whenever you want," Sirius said, wanting desperately to go _now. _But he had to remind himself that he was a capable, patient adult.

"What will dad say?"

"Probably for you to wait, so you aren't tempted to use your wand."

"I know it's forbidden, of course," Harry said, reading the note for a third time. "But if dad says to wait I'll wait."

And Sirius saw some of Remus in the boy, too, glittering. His patience, his understand, and his willing to be prepared. Remus' calm hadn't influenced the boy much, however.

"I read your copy of _Hogwarts: A History _at least twice this summer, I'm on my third run-through. Is it anything like the book said? Do ghosts really fly? What does the magic look like there? Why don't you use it? Could you have taught me or is the school really something…"

Sirius waved him silent, his eyes wide with excitement. He grinned. "Excited as always. When I went, the first thing I thought of was how to cause mischief."

And a little Sirius appeared in his grin, too, not falling short in his will to stir up just a little trouble: just to make one or two people laugh. Harry set the note aside, his gentler nature appearing.

"How was it?"

"You'll see for yourself."

"Should I wake dad up?" Harry said, knowing he wouldn't get an answer and deciding to drop the subject for the time being. He would snatch up any answers he wanted along the way. For an eleven year old boy, he had some cunning to use. Nothing for Ravenclaw material, but maybe something Slytherin would admire in its walls.

Sirius shook his head.

"You better not. Last night he didn't sleep."

Harry frowned.

"Oh."

Sirius felt guilt for not explaining the details fully to Harry. Soon, when he was older, Sirius said, reminding himself of the excuse he loathed to hear when he was a child Harry's age. Then again, he came from a dark, Noble family. He tried not to connect to it much. It was gone, save for the five-letter name still lingering, even in Harry's name.

"He'll wake up eventually." Sirius said.

Harry waited to be excused. Sirius lifted his eyebrows. It never stopped surprising him how, well, _mature _the boy could be.

"You're excused?" Sirius said uncertainly. "Or are there more questions you want to pester me with?" He barely stifled a yawn.

"You didn't sleep much last night, either, did you?" Harry asked.

Hufflepuff, yes, the care and kindness was there. Sirius shook his head. He should have been forming plans on how to blow up the neighboring cat, or something. He shouldn't have stood there, half-dead, and watching Harry's happiness with only an _ehh _response. There should have been more to it. He should have been celebrating, giving Harry a rare run on his broomstick (the boy had little love for Quidditch, oddly enough), and maybe he should have gone to Diagon Alley right then and there, to celebrate.

But exhaustion had become a trademark of the family. Remus didn't believe in raising a boy in a high-tension situation.

("He'll feel as though he was trapped in a small space, like a cupboard or something." Remus had insisted.)

That was not the life Sirius had wanted as a child. He wanted explosions, big bangs, volcanoes, and mischief, oh so much mischief. He still had his map, tucked away somewhere by Remus for sure. Who ddi he ever fall for that man?

"Do you think, then, that we could go next week? There isn't that much time left until the school year starts." Harry said, trying to negotiate.

"You'll have to create a better argument than that."

Harry grinned. "Don't you want me to start reading the textbooks before the year starts, so I can be prepared?"

"I don't want that. I want you to go at your own pace."

Harry gave him a pleading look, like a puppy wanting a treat desperately. Sirius had the creeping fear that Harry would start whimpering soon.

"Fine, we'll make a deal." Sirius said complacently. "You agree to wait and I, in the meanwhile, will teach you all the shortcuts and hidden places in Hogwarts, at least most of them. How does that sound?"

Harry's pleading look became a look of flattery. Sirius didn't like it one bit. It was the face James often pulled to get out of trouble, or to woo a girl or two. "No." He stated explicitly.

"No what?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "I know what you wanted."

"I wanted something?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Yes, and my own methods don't work against me. You've learned well, but you know better than to reproach a teacher."

"But these teachers here…"

"They may not have magic, Harry. They may not be able to stop you from sitting _on top of a roof—"_

"That was an accident!" Harry said. "I really don't know how I got up there! At least I didn't until you told me that there is a such thing as magic."

Sirius frowned. "That's besides the point, Harry. Now, if we yell anymore we'll wake Remus. And you've seen him when he's in an unpleasant mood."

"Not as bad as you are."

Sirius restrained a smile.

"The teachers at Hogwarts will have a laugh with you."

"And if you _dare _disrespect them, boy, we'll send you back to muggle school." A new voice chimed in. Harry turned to see Remus in the doorway, clean shaven, and with his tawny hair pulled away from his gentle face. His arms were crossed and his look stern.

"You're awake?" Sirius asked.

Oh he was in trouble now.

"You're surprised? With the noise you raised I'm surprised the neighbors haven't called in complaints of wraiths storming around the house."

"I doubt they know what wraiths are."

"You assume there are no wizards or witches here? I saw the neighbor's daughter, just the other day, accidentally turn her cat purple when she sneezed." Remus was irritable. Harry heard the canary's song and started to sneak out of the room. Remus shot him a wolfish look and he froze. "Young man, what news did you get?" He asked in a immensely gentler tone.

Harry showed Remus the letter. He read it through with a kind look, his eyes crinkling in pride. He rumpled Harry's hair.

"Have you read any of the books we have?"

"He's read the entire library." Sirius said.

"You know, maybe I should teach there…" Remus pondered.

Harry flushed with the ever inevitable preemptive embarrassment children face with the dire prospect of their parents becoming teachers. What horrors lie waiting!

"And risk your life? You know the only job opening there is the most dangerous one."

Remus grinned.

"You aren't the only glutton for danger, Sirius."

Sirius bit his lip.

"You should sleep, however. You're dog tired."

"Very funny." Sirius said, stalking past them.

Harry and Remus exchanged a look.

"There's a witch next door?" He asked.

Remus nodded. "Yes, he's a muggleborn, however. I think her parents are dentists, though I'm not sure. I don't make it my priority to examine everyone's lives."

Harry went outdoors, wanting to find the witch and exchange letters. After all, for most of his life, he had seen only a handful of magic spells and had never met a witch or wizard outside of his parents.

* * *

><p>"Ah, this changes everything."<p>

Minerva McGonagall watched the Headmaster bow over his desk, his long white beard trickling over the ledge. His quill rested over the parchment. A child had written to him directly and he was taking some time to create a response.

But that couldn't be all. Minerva knew it. She hadn't been called there to watch as Dumbledore poured over a piece of paper. He looked up, directly at her.

"Yes?" She asked tensely.

"Yes, I've come to a realization."

"And that would be?"

"I overheard a muggle study recently that suggested having something in one's mouth, such as, oh, a lemon-flavored sweet of sorts, can help one focus. I think that's marvelously clever for them. I was wondering if I should invest in a test of it myself. Don't you think?" He dug around his drawers for a bag of said lemon-flavored sweets.

Minerva watched the mostly insane wizard pop a sweet into his mouth and pensively roll it around in his mouth for some time before applying his hand to the parchment. He scribbled for some moments, the sound of a quill scratching paper giving her a sense of calm familiarity.

What did he want?

She knew better than to ask. That would only postpone the answer. If she hinted at it subtly, however, oh that may work—she would only have to wait for the tectonic plates to smother Asia and South America together for a reply.

"One other thing, Minerva." Dumbledore said.

"Yes?" She perked up, but attempted at hiding it.

"Would you like one?" He asked.

Dismayed, she shook her head and declined politely.

He wrote another line down.

"Ah, yes, I remember. I said 'one other thing', correct?"

"That you did, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"You know about that boy, Harry Potter?"

"Of course."

"Well, he's not actually Harry Potter anymore. He's Harry Black and he had remarkably good living conditions these past years."

"He _what_? How?"

"Yes, that changes things now, doesn't it?"

"It—It certainly does. Wasn't it part of your plan?"

"Sometimes the initial plan is by far the worst. And, speaking of plans, I believe that you should plan on calling Hagrid to come up to my office very soon. Also, one other last thing—I have a terrible habit of lying when it comes to these things—could you keep an eye on the Dursley residency?"

Minerva frowned.

"If Pot—Black does not live there, I don't see any real reason for this."

"You may not see a reason, but does that mean it isn't there?"

"No. I shall do as you have ordered."

"And bring me something a little more tangy, would you, Minerva?"

"Ah, yes, yes of course." She said, already vanishing down the stairs.

Dumbledore sat in the quiet room, a smile playing on his lips.

"Now who will find the stone?" He asked the room. Not even the paintings muttered a reply.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the reviews! They're highly appreciated._

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><p><em>Dirty scars. But not as dirty as your lies.<em>

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><p>Remus sat down in his desk, dipping his quill into a pot of ink. He stared at the curled parchment before him. He set the quill to it and composed a letter:<p>

_Dear Headmaster A. Dumbledore,_

_First I must sincerely thank you for allowing Harry (Potter) Black to come into our care. We hope that we have raised him well and that he has begun to grow goodness in his heart. As you know from our days, however, he has much of Sirius still in him. I apologize in advance for an mischief that he will raise. Feel free to contact us if he is to be reprimanded. Secondly, I must inform you of_

Remus stopped. He read over what he had previously written and sighed. It was atrocious. Atrocious and disorganized. He could write better than this. He was at the top of his class, James and Sirius had relied on him. Speaking of them, where was that blasted Map? Remus shooed these thoughts out of his mind and focused again on the letter.

He took at his wand and whispered a spell. The ink vanished, leaving him with a fresh piece of paper. Amazing what magic could do, Remus mused. He began to write again, composing a far more elegant letter. He wanted the words to be worthy of the Headmaster's attention.

By the third paragraph he was far too engrossed in his work to hear the door creak open and the padding that followed. Remus paused in his writing, reading over the last few lines carefully.

He restrained a yelp when heavy hands came down on his shoulders. Remus recognized from the soft scent and the vague dog breath who it was. He turned, annoyed. Sirius smiled at him and threw his arms around Remus' neck. He read over his shoulder.

Remus set his quill down.

"I really have gone lax these past few years, haven't I?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded in his hair. "That or I have become considerably craftier."

Remus paused.

"I believe the former has a greater chance of being correct."

Sirius pressed his lips to Remus' cheek. Remus turned red. Sirius had shown his affection in the most doglike manner. Remus was prepared to reprimand him for it, but stopped, seeing no need to do so.

"Can you take Harry to Diagon Alley today?" Sirius asked.

Harry was pacing in his room, waiting for it to be decided.

"Are you still apprehensive about going into the wizarding world?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded.

"I think a majority of them still distrust me. Even if Dumbledore had successfully cleared my name and had set the blame where it belonged. And then again I've been dealing with the muggle world for quite a while. I think the shift would be nearly unbearable. I am still part of the _Noble House of Black._" He sneered sardonically.

Remus pressed his lips together.

"I understand."

Harry approached the door impatiently. He saw Sirius' arms around Remus and made a face. He turned away and stood in the hall. "Are we leaving yet?" he asked.

Sirius let go of Remus.

"I can write the letter if you want." Sirius suggested.

"Although I'm sure Dumbledore would have a good laugh at an exploding letter, I think the matters are too serious for that. I'll finish it when I get back."

"Then I'll make dinner."

Sirius made a pleading-puppy pout. Remus' felt as though his heart had melted into a puzzle. With a deadpanned nod, he let Sirius prepare the dinner. Sirius grinned, happy to play some role in the end.

"Let's go, Harry." Remus said.

Sirius remained in the room, waving them off. Once he heard their footsteps descend and then a door shutting softly follow, he looked back at the letter.

_We appreciate all you have done for us. The one rule you gave us we still follow, not that we have much of a choice. It has been difficult for Sirius to live without magic, but it is infinitely better than Azkaban. For that we cannot thank you any more, and we will continue to do so. The time was ripe now for us to express this gratitude. _

Sirius smiled grimly.

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><p>Harry walked through Diagon Alley with a look of awe. Remus almost felt bad for depriving the boy a chance to look through it. Then again, it made his first time all the sweeter. He patted Harry's back.<p>

"Where do we go first?" Harry said, his gaze lingering on the broomsticks lined in one window.

"Gringrotts." Remus said. "To get your allowance. Don't take all of it when we get there."

Harry raised his brows. "What makes you think I will?"

Remus narrowed his gaze. Harry fell silent.

"I won't." He muttered. "Besides, I don't even know any spells that could let me sneak a few into my pocket."

"If you did—"

"I would become a dragon's dinner, I know." Harry finished his sentence. "I read about it." Then he smiled.

They shouldered past bustling witches and wizards. Families gathered around the shops, purchasing the supplies quickly before the rush came on. Young witches had gathered in one of the shops. Harry looked into the group. Not because he hadn't had much exposure to women before. Not even because they were particularly pretty girls (Harry was too young to even tell). But because he thought he saw the brown-haired neighborhood girl. He didn't and felt a tad bitter. His smile went away.

"What were you planning, Harry?" Remus said softly in his ear. He ushered Harry towards the bank, deliberately taking the longest route possible and exposing him to the wizard's hidden realm. He didn't fancy wasting time later on it.

Harry knew better than to lie to Remus. "I was thinking of what I could do if I put a can of water, several pigeons and—ow!" Harry stopped, grabbing his arm.

Remus looked around and saw a cloaked figure walk briskly past Harry. "Let me see." Remus said, still pushing him on to walk. He shot the deadliest glare he could at the man who had walked past them.

Harry lifted his arm, looking for the passing stranger with a vengeful glare. Remus examined the wound. It was light, more like a short jab with a small blade. A trickle of blood ran down his arm.

"Looked like the man was busy," Harry said some time later, after Remus had treated it and wrapped gauze around the wound. "I saw him hold something like a cauldron in his arms. I think that scratched me."

"The brute could have at least apologize for harming a little boy." Remus said coldly.

"It's fine." Harry insisted.

_No one hurts my kin._ Remus' look boldly pronounced. Several witches and wizards receded around him at the sight of a gentle man's fury. Like a big wolf protecting little pups, Remus had turned on father-mode.

Harry felt both protected and as if he would drown in the embarrassing stares assailing him from all sides.

After he had collected a share of money and had a respectful moment for his lost biological parents, he went with Remus back to the shops. As they walked, this time more slowly, Harry felt the rattling coins in his pocket, making sure none fell.

"You were friends with my dad, right?" Harry asked.

Remus nodded. "He was a troublemaker, but a good man."

Harry smiled. He let the matter rest then. Whether out of discomfort or content, Remus couldn't tell.

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><p><em>"Harry Black? <em>Black as in the Noble House of Black?" Draco Malfoy asked, looking pleased.

"Yes." Harry said, watching the witches swarm around him. Their wands dabbed at his new robes, shrinking and expanding here and there.

"I must say, I'm impressed." Draco said, looking at Harry. Harry grinned.

"And a pleasure to meet you, Malfoy."

"Always is, Black." Draco retorted.

Remus had gone to speak with someone or other and deliver a letter. He had left Harry to be fitted for robes.

"What about your mother, then?" Draco asked. "I trust she's pureblood as well? I can't imagine a member of the Black family meddling with anything less."

Harry flushed. "Uhh…"

Should he lie and gain Draco's brief, unworthy trust? Or should he tell the truth.

Then Draco's eyes became sympathetic.

"Do you have a mother?"

Better not to lie.

Harry shook his head.

"Oh, I apologize." Draco said, with an actual note of sorrow in his voice. So the oily, walking product of money and familial pride wasn't utterly heartless.

"No need, I never knew her." Harry said, which was the truth.

"Do you get extra attention from your father, then?"

"Yes, I suppose." Harry said.

Better not to tell the whole truth, either.

"You're straightforwards, Black." Draco said. "It's refreshing."

"Thank you. I'm glad I have achieved 'cup of cool water after a run' status."

Then, to more of Harry's surprise, Draco retrained laughter.

Something struck Harry about Draco: he was pretending to be someone he is not. And: it would be a very, very bad idea to be an enemy of his. Before he could response, the infamous Lucius Malfoy walked into the room like pale moonlight slicing through darkness. He watched the final touches added to Draco's robes, completely disregarding Harry. Harry looked away, keeping his head tilted so he didn't see the scar.

The furious, crooked, dangerous scar.

"This is Harry Black, father. From _the _House of Black." Draco said with a wave towards Harry.

Harry gave Lucius a polite smile. Everything about them should make Harry hate them. But, then again, Harry was raised by a werewolf and Sirius Black.

Lucius suddenly took interest in Harry, but only briefly. "Pleasure to meet you. Is your father around, then?" His eyes flicked to Harry's forehead, widening slightly.

But he was Harry Black, _not _Harry Potter. Wasn't he?

"Unless you came with your mother, or alone." Lucius said. Draco's expression contorted. Lucius noticed. But, unlike Draco, he offered no sympathy. Draco pretended that it didn't phase him either, that human emotions were beyond him. He was the rabbit trying to emulate a tiger.

"Ah, he went to do something important. I'm afraid I don't know where he is." Harry said quickly.

Lucius nodded and took Draco away.

Very shortly afterwards Remus walked in. His face was a mask of disgust. "Malfoys…" he muttered. He approached Harry and pinched the robes, testing them out.

"They look good. Let's pay for them and leave." Remus said, whatever ugliness he had set in his mind had passed for the time being.

Harry followed. The wound in his arm sprung back to life with a dull throb.

* * *

><p>"You said people would recognize me because of my scar." Harry said quietly.<p>

Sirius, who had been examining the wound, looked directly at Harry sympathetically. He gave a weak smile. He was just a kid. He didn't have to grow up too quickly because of guardians who hated him. He could be funny, quiet, pensive. And it would change, Sirius knew. Wizards matured quickly, after all.

"Did you think Remus would let you run through public with your scar viewable to everyone?" He asked.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You mean he put a spell on it to hide it?"

"Only briefly."

"But Malfoy's father looked there."

"He's a powerful wizard. Luckily your black hair looks like mine."

Harry nodded, his eyes becoming cold and calculating. Sirius saw Remus in him. And this time, not in a good way.

"Did you get everything you need?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded.

Sirius grinned. "Then I made you a promise, didn't I?"

Harry's smile vanished. "No, I'm a little tired. I think I want to sleep."

Sirius pressed is hand to Harry's forehead. He didn't seem sick. At least, not yet.


End file.
